November 14, 2015 § Leave a comment
And great mystery: to redeem our brokenness and lovelessness the God who suffers with us did not strike some mighty blow of power but sent his beloved son to suffer like us, through his suffering to redeem us from suffering and evil.
Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it.”
Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son
From time to time we are reminded, in the most horrible of events, that there is no getting around the reality of evil and human suffering in a fallen world. And there are moments in time and history when it is so abscessed that all humanity is taken to a place of stunned silence.
This is one of those times.
From the moment evil entered into the garden, the world has experienced immeasurable sorrow and pain. We tend to live in our own bubbles of perceived safety and peace, but below the surface and to varying degrees, the human heart is filled with the very infection that brings such suffering.
It is all so personal, and it is never really ‘out there.’ Early this morning I read a post from a lifelong friend whose family lives in Paris, informing us that by God’s grace they are safe. We rejoice, but talk about three degrees of separation. I remember hearing story after story of connections each of us had with people who perished in the 9/11 attacks, and as with the sobering reminder this morning I marveled at how stunningly close the world really is.
Truly, ‘no man is an island, entire of himself.’
I have no answers, only Jesus.
And my only relief comes in the fact that the gospel addresses brokenness and human pain, not with trite assurances or vacuous platitudes, but with a God who, instead of marginalizing our suffering, entered into it.
Today, with broken heart I can only look to the One who has tasted the violence, rage and sadness of the fall, by entering into it.
He alone is our good news.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus.
May 23, 2015 § Leave a comment
Miroslav Volf, Exclusion & Embrace
It is Memorial Day weekend. As a Christ-follower it is not uncommon for me to find myself involved in a conversation over the merits and sadnesses of war. No one I know would argue that every war the US has been involved in was what the Church father Augustine would call ‘just.’ But this weekend is not about that. It is to remember that many made the ‘ultimate sacrifice’ for their country in giving their lives.
Through years and generations our Nation has found itself embroiled in warfare, whether in world wars, regional conflicts, or even a Civil War. Everyone knows the sick, heartbreaking feeling of watching flag-draped caskets unloaded from transport planes. A simple history lesson of Gettysburg is enough to elicit the deepest of emotions over lives lost. Sacrifice is nobel, but death is brutal.
But this weekend, let’s put the debate aside. Let’s thank God for those who gave ‘their last full measure of devotion.’ Let’s honor their sacrifices and long together for the day when all wars will end.
Let’s not get lost in political madness and philosophical diversions. Let’s not argue the merits of war versus pacifism. Let’s not be ‘Hawks’ or ‘Doves,’ Liberals or Conservatives. Let’s just stop and acknowledge that many have died. To their parents, their siblings and their children, loss is loss.
If you have ever visited the Viet Nam wall, then you know that one can hardly do so without discovering elderly parents or aging spouses and children – in tears – revisiting their grief and loss over the sacrifice of their loved ones.
Together let’s believe that it wasn’t political posturing, or bloodlust that drew these precious individuals, but the sincere belief that even if they died, their sacrifice would have counted for something towards a more peaceful world.
And in remembering what has been given by men and women through the years in war and conflict, here in this broken, and often war-torn world, let’s consider Jesus, who ensures that one day all wars will cease, and because in Him, our war with the Father has been settled.
In His Sacrifice…
This is our good news.
Happy Memorial Day.
May 16, 2015 § Leave a comment
C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces
As you know, we have been immersed in the aftermath of the events surrounding the death of Freddie Gray in Baltimore. Perhaps the most challenging thing for us has been to ignore the voices from ‘outside.’ This is not offered in disrespect, but to say that whenever a crisis comes to a city, such as the one we have experienced, politicians and media outlets alike descend to make the most of it for their own purposes.
For example, there have been five murders in the same area since Freddie Gray died a few weeks ago, but no one has heard this. Why? Because it isn’t the kind of news that sells air time.
Don’t get me wrong. My intention is not to vilify or sow seeds of bitterness. It is to say that regardless of the crisis, and whether or not they are citywide or deeply individual, solutions never come from the outside. They are always far more personal, the deep ‘insider’ work of God’s Spirit.
Earlier our Staff spent the day with the Staff at the New Song church in Sandtown (the Sandtown/Winchester neighborhood was the flashpoint for much of the riots). It was one of the more delightful and hopeful meetings I have ever enjoyed, and it promises to forge a bond of deep love and friendship. The week before, a couple of us met downtown with some of the New Song Staff, along with Freddie Gray’s cousin and some locals. In each case we laid aside our assumptions and simply listened, only to find that we are all the same – people who carry their sorrows, struggles and fears, all trying to figure out life and faith in our contexts.
We also acknowledged that programs, violence and projects are not the answer, but that love and ‘kinship’ (as one young man termed it), are.
The gospel is eminently human as it is divine, each captured in the incarnation, life and rule of Jesus. Doesn’t it amaze you that God didn’t save us by some edict, but instead by sending His Son to become one of us? It does me! The last thing I want is for God to walk in on my ugly humanness, but this is exactly what He has done – and it is our only hope.
Whenever I find myself looking for a silver bullet to cure my problems, struggles and messes, it is because I want an easy way out, some symbolic ‘fix’ that only exacerbates my pain, and drives me more deeply into sin.
For the unfinished, healing and peace never come apart from face-to-face encounters with Jesus. The Father will never allow His people to approach Him religiously. It will always be in the unedited reality of our brokenness, because this is who we are.
And this is who the Father loves.
Friends, what good news…